


Nursemaid

by Omoni



Series: Abovetale [16]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asriel is a whiner, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Frisk, Fluff, Part of Abovetale, Sick goats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omoni/pseuds/Omoni
Summary: When both Asriel and Nickname come down with a cold, it's up to Frisk to take care of them through it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhalinRed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhalinRed/gifts).



> For my dear friend PhalinRed, who is sick with the flu. Hope this helps, honey!
> 
> In the Abovetale timeline, this occurs between "Papi" and "Hiding".

When Frisk woke up to Asriel clinging to her and shivering, she knew something was up.

She turned her head and saw that he was buried in every single blanket on their bed, so that only his nose was exposed - a nose that was running and sniffling.

She turned to him and said, very gently, "Are you okay?"

"C-cold," he answered, his voice tight and weak. "I-I'm s-so c-c-cold, Fri-Frisk..."

Frisk blinked, completely awake now, and she placed her hand beneath the blankets and onto his forehead gently, something he made a comforted noise from. She understood why; his forehead was blazing hot, and he was sweating beneath his downy fur.

"Oh, sweetie," she murmured. "You're sick."

"N-no," he protested weakly. "J-just c-cold. Just n-need the d-du-duvet."

"You can barely _say_ duvet," she answered, wrapping him up tighter and rubbing his back to increase the warmth, something that brought another comforted sound from him. With her other hand, she grabbed her phone and called Toriel.

"Ma?" she said softly, shifting her body closer so that Asriel could be a body-heat thief, too - something he immediately became, grabbing onto her and pulling her partially under the blankets. "Asriel's sick. Neither of us can work today."

"Oh, dear," Toriel sighed. "You, too?"

Frisk paused. "What?" she blinked.

"Gorey has the flu," Toriel admitted, sounding like she was admitting that he was dying. "I warn you, my girl: they're _babies_ when they get sick."

"Uh," Frisk said helpfully. "What do you mean?"

"I remember when Asriel was a small child. When he got sick, he was a _huge_ baby. He got it from his father. Expect a lot of whining, clinging, and yes, even weeping." Toriel sounded so sure that Frisk had no doubt that she was right, and suddenly realised that the day was going to be a long one.

But Asriel was her husband, and she loved him. She would do anything to make him feel better, even if it meant sweltering under a pile of blankets with him to keep him warm.

"Noted, with thanks," Frisk replied.

"Should you need advice, do call me again, dear," Toriel said - just as Frisk heard Asgore calling for her... in a very high-pitched voice. "I've got to go. Good luck."

Frisk hung up and set the phone aside, then gave Asriel a kiss on his warm, slightly-dry nose - another sign he was genuinely sick. "Sweetie, I need to check on Nicky, okay? If you're sick, I've got to be the one to take care of her, today."

"No," he answered. "Stay."

"Asriel," Frisk said sharply, and he relented, letting her go with a long-suffering pout.

She kissed him again and slid out of bed, yawning and finger-combing the hair from her face, before pulling the hair-tie from it and tying it back into a somewhat-neater ponytail. She padded down the hall to her daughter's room - and paused, her hand going to her chest, before she darted into the room.

Nickname was awake, looking miserable. She was sitting up, her eyes half-closed, and her nose was running. She had a hand to it, trying to stop it, and she was crying - coughing in-between. She was shivering, and had grabbed one of Frisk's sweaters and put it on, looking tiny in it.

The moment Frisk walked in, she sobbed out, "Mami, my nose is broken!"

Frisk went right to her side and scooped her up, giving her a kiss and rubbing her back. "You're not broken, sweetheart," she replied gently.

Nicky grabbed hold of her and buried her fevered face into her shoulder, crying and getting snot on Frisk's shoulder and nightgown, but she didn't care (she'd had much worse splatter her nightgowns over the years as a mother). With a slight sigh, she carried Nicky back to her bedroom and went back to the bed, where Asriel was still a ball of shivering blankets.

"Guess what?" she said to him, sitting down with Nicky in her arms. Asriel looked up with slightly-glassy eyes, and Nicky turned and looked back at him with similar eyes. The moment their eyes met, Nicky squirmed out of Frisk's arms and went right to Asriel, burrowing under the blanket nest and right up against his chest, resuming her tears.

"Papi, I'm broken!" she sobbed again into his chest, and to Frisk's dismay, Asriel's eyes filled with tears, too, as he held his daughter close and covered her in blankets.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Frisk sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're both such drama-queens. You're not broken! You're sick! Stay here, both of you, and I'll go make you some soup and bring the space heater in here."

"Mami, don't go!" Nicky cried from beneath the blankets. "I'm sorry, I'll be good!"

Frisk leaned close and gave Nicky a kiss on her nose, too. "I'm not leaving because I'm punishing you, Nickname. I'm going to get you something that will help make you feel better. Just rest with Papi and I'll be back before you know it."

Asriel nodded and hugged Nicky closer, and Nicky nodded. Frisk grabbed her phone, stood up, and left, going right to the kitchen and grabbing a can of chicken soup, one she knew they both liked.

As it cooked, she called Toriel, again.

"Nicky's sick, too," she sighed to her mother, and to her annoyance, Toriel chuckled.

"Well, my dear, what did you expect?" she wondered of Frisk. "They spend most of their time together. Allow me to guess: Nicky is also being a big baby?"

"Yes," Frisk replied, sounding defeated, stirring the soup slowly.

"Well, drown them in soup and love, and they'll be better in no time, my dear."

In the background, Frisk heard, "Is that Frisk? Is she safe?" followed by a very phlegmy cough.

Toriel then said, "Yes, Gorey, she's fine, stop talking and rest."

"I'll let you go, Ma," Frisk said in reply to this. "Give Pa my love, and good luck to you."

Toriel laughed again. "You need it more than me, dear," was her reply.

Frisk rolled her eyes and set the phone aside, then turned the stovetop off and poured two mugs of soup, one small and one large. She placed them on a tray, then went to grab the space heater. With it in one hand and the tray in the other, she went back to the bedroom, where her two charges were still huddled in their nest and sniffling.

Frisk set the tray down on the beside table, plugged the heater in and turned it on, then said, "Sit up, the both of you, or else I can't feed you."

"It hurts to move," Asriel answered, and Nicky nodded in agreement.

"Do you want to get better or not?" Frisk answered.

"Yes," Nicky murmured, sniffling.

"Then sit up, please, so I can feed you."

The two slowly obeyed, both making it a big deal and whining a little - Nicky, especially - but soon Asriel was sitting up and propped against the pillows, still wearing the blankets like a cape, with Nicky in his lap and cuddled close. Both were still shivering, so Frisk moved the heater closer before she gave them their mugs. Nicky sipped hers right away, looking immediately happy, but Asriel held his and frowned.

"What's wrong?" Frisk wondered, sitting down next to them.

"It's hot," he said.

"It's soup, Asriel," Frisk replied, holding up a hand. "Of course it's hot. You're cold, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Drink it," Frisk answered sharply, her eyes narrowing into a look that he knew he couldn't say no to, and he sipped it slowly, making a point to blow on it each time before he sipped.

Nicky was a better patient, it was true. She drank her soup without protest, her cheeks warming up the more she drank, and when she was done, she was smiling a little and not shivering, anymore.

"Thank you, Mami," she said softly, holding the mug out, her other hand up to her nose.

Frisk pulled that hand away and wiped her nose with a tissue, making her squirm a little and protest, but once her nose was clean, she thanked Frisk again and curled up against Asriel's chest, looking sleepy.

Asriel was a different story. He did drink his soup, but slowly, and with constant woebegone looks to Frisk, as if she was purposefully trying to burn his tongue off. She ignored him and instead pulled Nicky into her arms, holding her right to her chest and stroking her light brown hair slowly. Nicky didn't protest, instead curling up against her mother's chest and closing her eyes. She would sometimes wipe her nose on Frisk's nightgown yet again, but that was fine.

Eventually, she drifted back to sleep, snoring a little from how congested she was, and Frisk held her close, still stroking her slightly-damp hair.

When Asriel finished his soup, Frisk put the mug aside and held out an arm to him. He lit up and shifted right under her arm, curling up and burying his face into her shoulder. Frisk shifted Nicky a little to the side to make room, and soon, Asriel was out like a light - also snoring and adding a stereo sound to Nicky's, which made Frisk smile.

* * *

 They slept for about two hours, until Nicky woke up coughing, and in turn woke Asriel, who groaned. Frisk had been lightly dozing, and she snapped awake the moment Nicky uttered her first sound.

The moment Nicky was done coughing, she started crying. "My throat hurts," she said, looking as pathetic as she sounded.

"Sorry," Asriel added, his voice hoarse. "But mine, too."

Frisk nodded, gently handing Nicky back to Asriel, who continued to cry into his chest, and he held her close and teared up along with her.

Frisk bit back a sigh. "Hang on, I'll be right back,"

As she was gone, Nicky sobbed out, "I don't like this, Papi. Can you yell at it and make it go away?"

Asriel shook his head. "No. I already tried with mine. We're stuck."

This only made Nicky cry harder.

When Frisk returned, they were both a snotty mess of tears and blankets, and she sat back down beside them and held up a bottle and a spoon.

"Medicine time," she said calmly. "Asriel, you like this medicine, don't you?"

She raised her eyebrows when he met her gaze, then watched as  her eyes flicked to Nicky, then back to him.

He hesitated, then nodded, and Nicky saw it and blinked up at him, her tears still fresh but not as loud, anymore.

"Can you show Nicky how good it is, please?" Frisk added.

Asriel sat up and nodded again, and Frisk poured out a spoonful and gave it to him. It took every single ounce of willpower not to shudder or make a face, but he managed it, smiling faintly at his daughter once the medicine was swallowed, who was watching him sharply. She eyed him for a moment, then turned to her mother, who already had one ready, and she nodded.

Frisk gave her the medicine, and luckily she'd swallowed it before she realised it tasted disgusting. She shrieked and started crying again, this time hiding under the blankets, and Frisk rolled her eyes and set the spoon and bottle aside.

 "Sorry, baby," she said to Nicky, who glared at her. "But it'll make you feel better, soon."

"It makes me want to barf!" she answered angrily, hiding her face again.

"Please don't," Frisk answered. "Or I'll make you clean it up."

"Ew!" Nicky screamed, making Asriel wince but Frisk snicker silently; she remembered that it was the same threat Toriel used on her, one that was always effective.

"Fuh," Asriel murmured, lying his head back and closing his eyes. "I feel so tired."

Frisk leaned close and stroked his hair this time, brushing it back from his face. "Then sleep," she advised.

"Mm," Asriel answered, already relaxed. Nicky extracted herself from the blankets to look up at him, then to look at Frisk, before she curled up against his chest and closed her eyes. Frisk slid her hand down to Nicky's hair, alternating between the two, and soon, once more, they were snoring.

Frisk looked at them, not stopping in her caresses. In sleep, they both looked only a little sickly, more overtired than anything, and yet they looked so much alike, too.

There was a lot of Frisk in Nicky, but there was far more of Asriel, and it always pleased her to make note of this, as she found Asriel to be far better looking than herself. The fact that they were also very much alike in personality was something she treasured; there was so much love in Asriel, and she knew there was in Nicky, too. She was so glad that they both had each other to love, too.

She smiled, shifting closer and curling up next to them, falling back into her light doze. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world, despite the circumstances. She would take them sick and puking on her over being without them any day.

The cold only lasted two days, but they were certainly taxing on Frisk, who did everything she could to make them feel better.

By the end, she was exhausted - but still hadn't changed her mindset.

She never would.

**\--THE END--**


End file.
